Love Potion
by Oceanwind
Summary: A few of Draco's friends play a harmless prank on their fellow Slytherin ringleader, at least they thought it was harmless. Now Hogwarts has to deal with the wrath of a love struck Draco- Wait, what? The crazier part is who he happens to be thinking about even after the potion wears off and why he wishes he could be under its influence again... Anything is better than being numb.
1. Draco Needs

**A/N: **_Basically this started as a rewrite for Eureka, but I just couldn't get into the groove for that (seeing as Eureka, even with all of its flaws, still has a special place in this authoress's heart). This morphed into its own story line and plot, so I decided to run with it. Hope you guys enjoy._

**Disclaimer: I** do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I just get sick enjoyment out of borrowing them on weekends and placing them in situations that aren't real, but hey, that's what Fanfiction is for ;)

**Love Potion**

**Chapter 1: Draco Needs…**

It was a typical sunny afternoon in late August. Normally Draco wouldn't care that it was sunny, or that it was August. Lately Draco rarely cared about anything. The war had left him with the harsh realities of adulthood, that not everything was care free, that he couldn't run to his parents when he messed up and needed saving. This world wasn't _safe_. It didn't matter what time of the year it was. It didn't matter if it was rainy, sunny, if lava was falling out of the sky, or if he died or not. There was more going on in this world than just his shallow taste of it. Several months ago he couldn't say he cared about his actions affecting other people, or that he cared about anyone other than himself. It was like he had been on the tip of an iceberg, and now he was completely submerged with the rest of it. He could _see_ now. He could see that the world didn't revolve around him or his petty problems. He could see that just because Voldemort was gone that the world wasn't magically healed. That there was still a lot to be done to fix up the damage that had been left behind. He saw that he had to help, that he had to grow up even more than he already had and as terrified as that aspect made him, he understood.

All of this had left him numb. Losing his house, his parents being locked up, forced to work with the Ministry to find other people that he had fought alongside with to help defeat the Order, the humiliation he suffered on a daily basis, it was all adding up and taking its toll. He felt like the last dregs of tea swirling around chaotically at the bottom of the mug. No one wanted to take the last sip, no one felt sorry for him, if they didn't want the last few sips they might just pour him down the drain. He wasn't important.

It had come as a harsh blow at first, but then so had a lot of things after the war.

So things always seemed bleak to the young wizard. His youthful optimism vanished and ripped away violently from the war (although come to think of it, he had never been much of an optimist), and in its place harsh cynicism occurred. It was special when a day would stand out to him, when it wasn't blurred or distorted like the rest of the week or when he actually _cared_ to make note of it. He tried to remember why this sunny, August day seemed so important, but his thoughts didn't seem to be at their usual wit. One moment he had been eating toast, sipping his juice, politely conversing with a few students that had decided to come back and finish their seventh year, and then the next moment he only noticed one thing.

_Her._

The bright happy August day paled in comparison. Why had he never noticed her before? At least, why had he never noticed her like this? She seemed radiant, even from across the room. He had to be closer, like something about her just might warm him if he was near her. Being warm was so much nicer than being hallow, than being dull, than being unable to grieve.

He heard the snickers, he knew he was staring, he might have even said something completely out of character, yet the next thing he knew he was on his feet and making his way towards _her._ He felt someone pull on his sleeve but that didn't stop him, he just shook off the offending person with a snarl as he stalked across the hall towards her table. The red and gold really seemed to reflect the summer day, it was so… _bright_.

"Hi," he stammered. Eternally he cursed himself for the sudden nerves, but she seemed too perfect. So bright. Angelic. How was he supposed to speak to her?

"Um hi?" she looked confused. He blushed. How was he going to ask her out on a date when she was looking at him like an idiot?

"You look gorgeous today. You're really bright and shiny," he told her afraid that he would sound wrong he had rushed it out in one breath. It should have cheered her up but her brows furrowed and the students around her started to snicker.

"Are you feeling—"

"Draco, come on man," Theo growled coming up to his side and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Granger's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What are you up to?" she asked, her voice cracked like a whip as she glared at him. He felt like he was melting, he couldn't stand her looking at him like that.

"Granger, for once just shut up. I'll take care of this," Theo smoothly cut in.

"Don't talk to her like that," Draco spat.

"What the hell is going on? What is this?" she growled.

She stood up from her chair to glare at the two boys. Draco withered; Theo straightened but gritted his teeth. Zabini happened to stroll over and throw his arm protectively around Draco as he glared at Granger, while Goyle came over and stood menacingly behind them. His knuckles cracked against each other loudly as some of the people around Granger started to grumble. Why were all his friends here following him? He hadn't invited them.

"Look it was just a harmless prank to try and loosen this prick up. It's none of your concern Mu-" Zabini cut himself off with a hasty cough. "It's none of your concern, Granger," he corrected.

Her name, it sounded wrong coming off another boy's lips. He squinted at the person to his right, who was pulling insistently on his sleeve. Goyle and Nott were talking loudly, their hands waving about frantically as they talked to the group of other non-important people in front of him. Goyle was the culprit who had his hand firmly wrapped around his sleeve and gave him a sharp tug to keep him in place. Draco sighed and twisting slightly, managed to escape his friends hold. He turned quickly to face _her _just as her musical voice spoke out. It felt wonderful. It felt like he was _alive_.

"He's under a love potion," she said smoothly. Her brown eyes sparked with knowledge that seemed to silence his friends. Oh how her voice sounded like music. "Slughorn probably has an antidote," she added.

His minions might have said something back but he didn't really care. He sat down next to Granger. At least he slid himself into the spot that was next to her, rudely shoving someone with bright red hair further away to make room. Her hair was so shiny; it looked like it would be soft to touch. Her hand slapped his away midair, as if she knew his intentions. Her lips were puckered in a scowl, it was a look he was used to seeing on her, but he wasn't sure why he liked it so much. He loved catching glances of her bright smile with her friends from afar.

"Why can't you smile more?" he heard himself asking, she looked like she was about to yell when he added, "you have a lovely smile, I really like it."

He grinned like a loon, and then let his hand fall into his hand on the table so that he could peer up at her in the flattering angle. No sooner had he said that and moved to catch a better angle his arm was pushed causally and his face smacked roughly against the wood.

"Ronald!" Hermione growled.

_Oh yes, Weasley_, he thought, his stomach dropped for some reason as he glanced back at Granger. He heard a male voice protest that he was a git anyways, and some angry shouts, but it all died away quickly as Granger stood and grabbed his hand. He blushed. Her hand was so warm; he squeezed her hand enthusiastically while he tried to entangle her fingers with his. She shook off his attempts but kept her grip on him firm as she led him out of the Great Hall.

"Come on Malfoy, let's go see Slughorn," she soothingly called to him when he looked like he was about to protest.

"I'll go anywhere with you," he breathed.

His head felt light as she started to tug him towards the door, her bushy hair revealing her shoulders and neck as she had it pushed to one side. He fumbled dumbly behind her, losing himself in the sway of her hips. He didn't want this moment to end; he didn't want to feel any differently than he did right at this moment. He was _happy._ Something in his brain clicked, that this wasn't him, that he wasn't like this. He couldn't find why he felt differently about Granger but he was sure he had always liked her, yet that didn't seem right. For the first time in probably 20 minutes he asked her a question, one that tore up his stomach with nerves, because really he couldn't stand the thought of being tricked away from her side. He had to be sure… and by no means was he possibly having an alternative motive that might possibly involve capturing those voluminous lips of hers between his… He needed to be sure that she was taking him somewhere where they could be _alone_. And being alone did not include Slughorn. He balked just as they started to cross through the giant doors and out into the main hallway.

"But why are we going there?" he asked gently. She had said earlier that he would have an antidote but if Draco was going to be cured from this feeling he was sure that he wouldn't like that. He didn't want to be cured.

She chewed her lip nervously for a moment looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see right through him before she laughed lightly and told him, "He says he has some homework he wants to give me. I figured you would want to come with me to pick it up."

"Always a bookworm, Granger," he teased as he bent slightly to kiss her cheek. She squeaked in an adorable way but managed to duck just in time so that his lips grazed her silky hair.

Draco hadn't really been aware that they had a group of people following him until he felt the sharp rap against his skull that knocked him to the ground and a slur of curses being yelled at him. Weasley towered above him, his red hair matching his ugly red face while he blinked to clear his head and stood up. Something about this was off. Everything was happening so quickly… Draco shook his head again to clear it. Why would Weasley want Granger? Granger was his.

"Don't you touch Hermione, you – you creep!" Weasley yelled.

"Oh what a coherent insult," Draco growled rolling his eyes as he stood up, he somehow managed to take a protective step in front of Hermione but in doing so he was closer to Ron.

He gritted his teeth and bit back a growl as Hermione grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. It brought her back to the forefront of his mind, not that she was never not there. She was wonderful, how could anyone not want her? But that was bad… he wanted to be the only one to want her. His face pinched into a scowl as his chaotic thoughts swirled. His looked matched Hermione's with a similar scowl as she quickly asserted herself between the two men. One hand flew to his chest to keep him in place, as if she had known that he wouldn't be happy with her between him and this dolt. His fingers automatically went in to weave with hers, but this time she didn't seem to notice. Her attention was on the brooding redhead.

"Ron," she breathed out easily with her hands up defensively in the air, as if that would magically calm everyone down, "he doesn't know what he is doing. Maybe I should just handle this; I do have a wand you know."

Ron cursed loudly before giving him an evil glare, "You'll be paying for this later. That is, if you don't want to kill yourself for holding her hand once your head is clear."

He emphasized that with a rude gesture into the air as he stormed back into the Great Hall.

"I think this goes for the rest of you as well. I can handle this," Hermione said easily with a small smile towards the remainder of his friends.

Slytherins and Gryffindors don't get along. Something in him was ringing a bell. He grinned goofily at her. She was so smart, how had he never noticed that before? What had kept him from her side all of these years? It seemed painful to think about. To think about anything to do without her seemed bleak, empty; _wrong_.

"Killing them with kindness?" he asked with a joking poke to her side.

Hermione chuckled nervously before answering, "Something like that."

There was a moment of silence before she looked down away from him, her eyes held a far off look as she started to lead him down towards the dungeons and Slughorn's office.

"Who were you sitting next to earlier?" she asked lightly.

"Why does that matter?" Draco snapped, his jealousy instantly flaring. Granger stifled a chuckle behind her hand and turned slightly so he couldn't see the remainder of her smirk, he could still hear it in her voice though.

"I was just wondering who could have had access to your drink," she said easily, "You'll know what I'm talking about later," she added wisely as he attempted to slip his hand into hers. She sighed but allowed it as they dashed down the last few steps. The knot in his stomach grew as she slowed her pace towards their professor's door.

"You could always make out with me while you think things through," he offered, wiggling his brows. Her face scrunched up in distaste.

"No thanks. I'm not particularly fond of the weasel family," she said smoothly.

He mockingly placed his hand over his heart and stumbled, their fingers still enterlocked her tugged her with him so that she collided into his chest. Her joke was actually kind of funny, but it gave him room to make a jab at Weasley which he gratefully took. Anything to shove that memory of being a bouncing white ferret out of his mind... and focus on the girl in front of him.

"Then stay away from that redheaded weasel," he growled.

"You are really going to be hating yourself in a couple of hours," she laughed, "I can't wait until you can't look at me in the eye tomorrow."

"Why would I not be able to?" he growled.

She was so close, close enough that he could feel her rapid heartbeat against him. The fresh scent of vanilla wafted up from her hair and he found himself inhaling her scent. Vanilla, ink, freshly mowed grass; it was all a familiar scent to him. It smelled like home, smelled like …

"I do realize that I am not currently acting like myself," he started slowly, "that what I'm feeling happens to be extremely close to a certain potion that is banned from being used at this school, but I'm inclined to not really care at the moment."

"You can't drop the superior act even while intoxicated?" Granger asked rolling her eyes, but she still had yet to move away. He felt something prodding him to close the distance, but at the same time he was scared. What if she didn't want him to kiss her?

"It can't be an act if I am superior," he replied.

Granger pulled herself free. He tried not to let his disappointment show, but it was to no avail.

The young witch turned away from him and closed the distance to the door, knocking a few times before the faint voice of their professor could be heard on the other side.

"Oh, Ms. Granger, what a pleasant surprise—oh and Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Slughorn did a double take to see the infamous rivals outside his door, seemingly calm and not ready to rip each other's' throats out.

"Hi professor, I know it is kind of early, but Mr. Malfoy here is in quite a pickle," Hermione said evenly giving Draco a gentle push so that he stumbled inside.

"Oh my, what's wrong?"

"That would be a lot of things," Granger snorted, but she moved so that she could whisper lowly with the professor and moved across the room to a cabinet with him, leaving Draco within their eyesight but out of hearing range. A few minutes later she stood in front of him with a firm scowl in place.

"Drink this," she said as she roughly shoved a vial into his chest, her cheeks were slightly flushed as Slughorn came over to peer over her shoulder.

"Why?" he asked, "If I drink this will you go on a date with me?" he quipped, he had to get something out of this, he couldn't just let her go. He needed this brightness she seemed to protrude.

"Just drink it," she growled.

"Only if you go on a date with me… or kiss me?" he added as an afterthought. Granger's cheeks darkened a shade of red.

"Fine, we can go on a date. Drink up already," she snapped uncorking the bottle and thrusting it back at him.

"Promise you'll go on a date with me?" he asked her as he timidly sniffed the contents.

"Yes, yes, now drink up. Lessons start soon," Hermione's foot started to tap with impatience.

He let out a deep breath and downed the liquid in one gulp, sputtering as he did so.

The effect was instantaneous, his thoughts cleared and his sharpness returned. He knew exactly what had just happened, and who had spiked his juice earlier this morning. Only there wasn't the horror, there wasn't the shock that he had felt that way for Granger, in fact… he was kind of annoyed that he still noticed her. It wasn't the same kind of notice as earlier; it wasn't dummying him down and affecting his judgment. He wasn't blinded by her brightness, but in the low light of the dungeon she seemed the same as before. She was normal, a plain bookworm with a lot of smarts that had fought her way through a terrible war but still held her head high. She still found good in people, still fought to change the world. He still saw that part of her and it seemed important that he hadn't noticed that while he had been under the potion. And for a second he wanted to go back to that moment in the hall where he had nearly leaned in and done the unspeakable… he wanted to feel his heart race. He wanted to be more than this aching numbness that was already climbing its way back into his chest. He growled.

"I'm going to kill them," he snarled lurching to his feet. Granger held up her hands defensively but didn't touch him. It was enough to stop him from racing out the door.

"Maybe you should skip class today?" she suggested.

"Why so you can let everyone think that I'm a love sick idiot for a mudblood?" he spat. Her facial expression didn't change, she didn't even flinch, and she merely shrugged her shoulders slightly and let out a gentle sigh.

"I was trying to give you enough time to not deal with Ron, he isn't staying to finish this semester out. Today was supposed to be his last day…" she trailed off and looked thoughtfully back to their professor. Slughorn had made his way back to his office and looked like he was brewing tea, all the while carefully peering at the two students with a lot of interest.

"I think it is rather stupid that he is actually going through with this whole drop out thing," Draco offered.

He wasn't sure why he was sitting her and making small talk with her, but he didn't want to leave yet. He could have just nodded, offered a dumb excuse and left. Yet he didn't want to. He had never truly been alone with Granger, never held a conversation with her besides sputtering hate at her like he had just had. Part of him wanted to apologize immediately, but he couldn't find the words. Part of him wanted her to explain it in her little know it all way that he was under a love potion, that his stupid friends had ordered it and for some reason had picked her to be the target as well. He wanted to know why, wanted to know how, and he more importantly he wanted to know why he wasn't at all bothered by this and why he wanted to say sorry for something that he had always done to her. He didn't want to say more things that could hurt her, even if she didn't show it anymore, even if he didn't believe it anymore. He had to keep the wall up. He had to show her that he still hated her, that there was still a world between them. It was important. It was utter bullshit and he knew it.

Hermione sighed and dropped her face into one of her hands, her other starting to rub her temple, "Trust me, I know."

"So why are you letting him? Aren't you two like… together?"

"He has made his choices," she said suddenly turning cold, "not that it is any of your business."

He smirked.

"Suddenly remember that you were fraternizing with the enemy?" he jeered.

"You crossed the line first," she said smoothly.

"I was—"

"Totally coherent. You knew you were under the effects, you went along with it."

If there was ever a silence that would have the old cliché cricket chirping now would be that time. The silence stretched out for several long moments, neither breaking eye contact as both kept their faces straight. They were hiding from each other, hiding things that the other could use against each other. This was a dangerous game; Draco's heart started beating faster as he nervously licked his lips.

"You don't know that," he snapped.

"Seemed like it when you practically said it earlier or how sarcastic you were being with Ron…"

"Maybe I was then, but if you were aware that I was aware you still agreed to a rather interesting situation earlier," he hinted, arching one brow perfectly to scoff at her.

"I am capable of lying," she said darkly, she lifted the sleeve off her left arm ever so slightly to reveal a flash of an ugly scar underneath.

His eyes fell to the floor and his mouth went dry as the picture of her lying on the floor in a weeping mess pinned under his aunt returned to him with a force that had him fighting tears. In less than a second any humor that had been associated with this situation was now dampened and the mood became serious. Her reminder brought back their past, reminding him that he had to fix years of damage with this girl before him before he could do something like lightly joke about going on a date. It reminded him that they weren't friends and that they hardly knew each other outside of the prejudice they had thrust at each other.

"Classes start soon. I'll see you later then," she said crisply as she stalked out the door.

The dungeon seemed a lot darker once she had left.


	2. Chasing Clouds

**Love Potion**

**Chapter 2: Chasing Clouds**

The week was miserable. It was not because of the endless stream of taunting from his fellow Slytherins, nor was it because of the black eye he was nursing from the nasty brawl and encounter he had had with Weasel shortly after the '_incident_'. It wasn't even that the elves hadn't served his favorite breakfast in over a month. No, none of that could bring him down, he could handle all that; he was used to all of that. What he wasn't used to was not seeing Granger in the classes they shared. She was still turning in her work to the teachers, still at the Great Hall in the mornings eating her breakfast, she was still at Hogwarts. She just wasn't going to their classes, their Potions class to be specific, and it just so happened to be the class where he sat directly behind her.

Had times not changed, had he not changed, he would have eaten up the chance to spew hateful words into her ear with this prime position. He would have gone on and on about his rotten luck having her bushy hair block the board from his view, or maybe he would have flung shavings or a variety of trash at her in his spare time during lecture. He hadn't done any of that this year, he merely ignored her. Their month together at Hogwarts should have proved otherwise, he rarely spoke to her, rarely looked at her. _If that's the case then why do I notice when she isn't here?_ He thought as he sprinkled a few pinches of minced wormwood into the bubbling cauldron that he was working on. He easily excused those thoughts as he was still feeling some type of _'after effect'_ from the _'incident_'.

He had spent a year under Voldemort's rule in this school, with Death Eater's as his teachers and no escape to a life outside. This once safe haven had lost its magical touch of protection that they were safe here no matter what. That thought had been dashed against the wall as violently as Dumbledore's death. So that year he had often wondered, along with the rest of the wizarding community, what the golden trio was up to. The group of friends that he had tormented growing up he had secretly wished would come back and save him, save the school. Gryffindor courage still filled the halls, still resisted against the 'Dark', but it wasn't the same.

That year should have let him grow used to her absence, but right now hers in particular seemed _off_. Potter hadn't bothered to show up this year, the kid was off on his honeymoon before starting an internship at the Ministry. Draco had merely come back because he currently needed to work out a living arrangement and this old home seemed less frightening than the other options he had. The other options were where the Ministry could disturb his daily life at the drop of a hat, but at least here they had to give some warning. Zabini, Goyle, and Nott were all in similar situations. Pansy, Crabbe, and a few other would have been seventh year Slytherins had either died during the war or just decided to not come back. In fact not many came back and the few that did were opting to leave early, like Weasel. He had come back, but it looked like he was just waiting for Potter to get back so that he could follow him. Granger was the only one of notice that was sticking it out that seemed to actually want to come back to school. Maybe that was her stubborn Gryffindor side or maybe she saw it as a way to fix some part of her innocence that was lost during the war. After all, fixing up your old childhood home seemed like a good way to try and restore some lost faith before moving on with life. Maybe that was why it bothered him not seeing her in Potions.

Maybe it was the fact that he kept dreaming about her at night, that he secretly suspected she hadn't given him the proper antidote, or maybe it was that he _wanted_ those feelings back. This was bordering on close to an obsessive level and he knew it. But at the same time, he didn't care. He felt like he had been woken up, and he was groggily trying to grope around for his wand to shut off the annoying alarm he had set a few minutes too early. Half of him wanted to go back to sleep, where it was blissfully dark and didn't require any work on his end. The only half knew he had to get up and start the day. It was a poor analogy, really, but he couldn't think of a way to put it in words _just what_ exactly he was feeling. The best summary was restlessness, and he thought he had a solution to fix that.

He felt that if he saw _her_ in close quarters, like their seating arrangement, again that it would help clear the air. He could see that there was nothing special about her then. She was plain, not in an ugly way, just plain. Besides her curly hair and her bucked teeth there wasn't really anything that unusual about her looks, she was average everywhere else. Wait… were her teeth bucked? When he had been with her the other day he hadn't noticed it, in fact the last time he remembered making fun of her large teeth a spell had gone horribly wrong in their fourth year and her smile had looked different ever since. Why was he noticing her smile?

Why the hell had she been avoiding only this class?

Draco found that his teeth were grinding together and that he had stirred his current concoction into such a state that it had started to boil over.

"Oy, pay attention! What the hell has gotten into you?" Blaise growled as he quickly waved his wand over the mess so that the spilled potion disappeared from the table. He looked worriedly over at their project's lower level but seemed to reassure himself as he went back to work on flatting some type of bean. He gave Draco another look of disproval, to which Draco shrugged and glared at Granger's empty chair, wishing now more than ever his favorite verbal outlet was here.

The rest of the class passed without incident. Even with the small hiccup of Draco's neglectfulness the two Slytherins finished first in class. Draco turned their vial that contained a part of their potion in it to be graded up to the front desk to Slughorn. The old man was busy reading over what looked like very old letters as he sipped some tea. On occasion he would glance up and bark a few sharp orders at some of his least favorite students, or coo affectionately to his well-liked favorites.

"Here you are," Draco said smoothly holding out the vial.

He noticed on the rack where Slughorn placed vials that needed to be graded, that there was already one there. The corners of his lips pulled downwards at the sight, and Slughorn took notice with what looked like to Draco malicious glee.

"Miss Granger sure is something. She hasn't been too happy with my proposal that I offered her that morning she came by to help you. She's been avoiding me ever since," the professor chuckled. He drummed his fingers against his desk in excitement as if he thought Draco couldn't just wait to ask him what he was talking about. Against Draco's better judgment he decided to go along and indulge his professor in a follow up question he was obviously expecting.

"Your proposal?"

"I offered her to get her in touch with an old friend of mine. I was just suggesting to her a few fields of work that I felt like she would excel in and I didn't see any harm in trying to offer her an interview. Only she seemed to know this, er, friend and became rather flustered…" he trailed off and gave the younger student a knowing grin.

"Really Professor, I don't care what you try to get your students to do in your spare time," Draco growled lowly making sure to keep his tone down as a few other students looked at the chatting pair with interest.

Two years ago he had tried so hard to get this man to see potential in him, and two years ago he nearly murdered the only man who had. Dumbledore served to be a constant reminder in his everyday life that he could be more than what he had been the day before. With that being said he was curt with people he had once thought so highly of, people that used people to get something they wanted weren't as appealing to him anymore, in short people like Slughorn. In fact, his professor downright disgusted him at times like this.

"My dear boy, if only you understood! I'm offering this deal to all our returning 7th year students. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. I had just offered it to Miss Granger first because… uh well… I knew and perhaps hoped to see something _more_ come from this meeting with my friend," he grinned sheepishly.

"You tried to set up Granger on a date?" he snorted.

The older, darker, side of him snickered evilly at all the possible insults he could use in his arsenal against her, 'You're such a teacher's pet that they have to set you up on dates?' Oh the list was endless, but that part had long ago started to die out. In its place now stood something he wasn't familiar with.

"Tried? No, she accepted. I just think she is too embarrassed to get the date set in stone. Plus I think she wants it to be as a professional meeting, not a meeting trying to rekindle an old fling," he chuckled nervously. "You won't say anything to her about this right? My friend is getting rather pushy so I was going to approach her tonight at dinner."

"I'm not friends with her, why would I say anything?" he replied flatly at turning his heel and stalking out of the room.

"Good lad," Slughorn called out good-naturedly at his retreating form.

He had finished his assignment so early that he still had a good two hours before his next class. He parted ways from Zabini offering a mild excuse of having to study for an upcoming test before making a beeline towards the library. He wasn't telling a whole lie, just a partial one.

He found her in her usual spot, curled up near one of the large windows that faced out towards the extensive grounds just barely masking the Quidditch field from view with a few well-placed trees.

For some reason he had cataloged all the ways to find her over the years. The library was the one place he had never disturbed her before, and it was one of the easiest places to find her. This spot was right around the bend from one of the first few shelves and was easily in plain few of several desks and students browsing for some lower level reading. He had often seen her there over the years curled up with a thick book of some sort. Was it odd that he thought of this as her usual spot? He gave her another glance over as if it would reveal something to him as he timidly stepped towards the edge of the shelf. The rows gave the space an eerily quiet feeling, as if this space could suck out all the sound that any student would dare make in the library. For a moment he was almost afraid to speak.

"And do I owe this wonderful pleasure of being blessed with the Mighty Malfoy's presences to the after effects of a potion?"

Her voice startled him from his spot. He had still been halfway behind a shelf, easily in view but obviously torn on whether or not he should approach her. He let his head fall against the back of the rough wood between the shelves with a dull thunk as he groaned at her response, looked like she felt like being snarky today.

"Look, I don't remember saying that," he offered defensively taking a step forward with his hands up as if it would pacify her.

"You might as well have. You know, I do find it unusual that you seemed to have forgotten or blocked out some of what occurred the other day."

"I'm good at blocking out traumatizing events," he teased as he stood a good foot or two in front of her. He crossed his arms and impatiently placed his weight on one foot as he glared down at her from her seat on the window sill.

"Aren't we all," Granger offered without any sarcasm. She glanced up from her book for the first time to give him a sweeping gaze. "You didn't answer my question," she told him when he didn't respond.

For a split second he had to backtrack. It had been a long time since someone had been… like this with him, since someone could keep up with him or challenge him in a conversation even if it was for a second. He had expected her to tease him more about Weasley beating him, he had expected anger to be there at him. He had expected a lot of possible outcomes but this wasn't it. It seemed like a friendly chat between two acquaintances with just enough wit involved that he had to actually pay attention. Lately every word out of everyone's mouth was recited, was predictable. The boredom that stemmed from that was almost as bad as the numbness. He wasn't used to talking to her, she was in a different class altogether.

"No. I'm completely-sober-full-of-hate Malfoy," he answered cheekily.

She laughed.

"Good to know," she said once her chuckles died down after a few angry glares from the librarian. Her gaze turned back towards her book and once again he didn't exist. Her eyes greedily scanned the pages as she devoured the words and soaked in the knowledge.

Was it that easy to start joking with someone that hated his guts? She wasn't going to grill him with a thousand questions about who had spiked his juice or why he was here? That didn't seem very Granger-like. Wasn't the library her turf? He dismissed that last thought as silly. Granger wasn't so petty to expect people to avoid the library just because she spent most of her free time here. He shook his head and found that he was now leaning against the wall next to the window. This was the closest he had even stood next to her without calling her some type of name or having some type of alternative motive. She didn't tense up, or even look up from her book. There was something soothing about that inherent trust she had that he wouldn't do anything despite their history.

"You know most people come to the library to read or to study," Granger started looking up from her book after a few minutes of silence.

"Maybe I came for the large windows to challenge my eyes to find the Quidditch pitch," he elusively excused. "Seeker training," he offered quickly at her skeptical gaze.

"There are other windows that have better views," she told him pointing to the next window down.

"That isn't as challenging," he told her straining his neck in a fake attempt to see better out the window.

"Well if you must insist on developing your skills maybe you should start with the easiest view and work your way to the hardest?" she suggested in a thoughtful tone.

"Is that a suggestion to leave Granger?"

"In a subtle way I hope," she told him with a grin.

"But then who would be around to give you stimulating conversation?" he quipped.

She answered with a smaller smile as she pointed to her book.

"Fine," he grumbled as he pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to the other window. He spent the better part of an hour sitting on the window sill and glaring out into the bleak grey sky as the clouds that rolled by, or studying the fields and paths that led down to the (now visible) Quidditch pitch.

A few times he was tempted to go back to Granger's window and try to get a rise out of her to see if he could get them kicked out of the library but he wrote that off as childish. He stole a few glances at her here and there, and each time a portion of the book she had read seemed to diminish as the side that she had yet to read continued to shrink under her hungry gaze. What had he expected when he had gotten here? That she would talk to him? That she would open up and vent to him? That there would be some type of communication that led to a stalemate in their old rivalry?

Granger stood suddenly with a satisfied sigh. She placed the book lovingly on the window sill for a brief moment as she stretched her arms over her head dramatically and let out a small yawn. She glanced over at him and offered a small smile.

"Windows open now," she said as she scooped up the book.

He stood hastily and made his way towards her as she started to disappear from his view behind a bookcase.

"The brightest witch of our age should know better than to fall for a cheap lie like training a Seeker's eyes," he growled as he caught up with her a few rows down. She was sliding the book back in place and eyeing a few other titles. She rolled her eyes dramatically letting her neck roll smoothly as well as she swiveled it to look at him.

"Well I figured you had to _try_ and develop _some_ skill for that game," she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"Did you just call Quidditch, _that game_?" he asked his voice breaking a pitch ignoring the implied insult she had jabbed at him.

"Yes," she answered flatly. "And don't start with a lecture please," she added when he opened his mouth to do just that.

Suddenly this felt extremely weird, here he was following Granger around to make small talk… about Quidditch? He shook his head once and took a step back.

"You haven't been in Potions," he said evenly, finally bringing up the point that had haunted him in to coming here to talk to her.

He had expected her to growl and tell him it was none of his business but he was rather surprised to see the blush that took its stead.

"Yes, I haven't been," she agreed evenly, she looked towards the bookshelf and at the thousands of titles that were lined up before her as her cheeks continued to darken in color. He kind of wanted her to look back at him, he took another step back.

Why? Why was he doing this? The other day she had made it clear that she wasn't looking to joke around with him, but she hadn't made any real attempt to lash out at him or turn him away. His mind flashed back to when he had held her in the hallway. She hadn't pulled away immediately; in fact she seemed to be waiting for some type of signal from him. Was she craving attention from someone she hardly knew? Was she looking for a friend? Did she feel as empty as he did?

"I was…"

"Malfoy," she said jumping over his hesitation, "I would not tell you even if I wanted to. Right now I would rather just be alone. I'll be in class tomorrow," she promised.

"This was nice…" she added as she took a few steps towards him to go past him. She paused briefly as if she was debating on retracting that statement. Her teeth caught the bottom of her lip as she started to move past him.

"I might have to come here to train more often," he breathed out lowly.

He could have sworn he saw her grin as she rounded around the corner.

"See you tomorrow," she called lazily waving her in farewell. She didn't once look back, if she had she would have probably been taken back by how memorized Draco seemed to be.

What was it about watching a girl leave that hypnotized men? Oh right…

But this was Granger! Bookworm extraordinaire. He shouldn't be watching her like this; he shouldn't be seeing her as a regular 17 year old girl. He shouldn't be thinking about her or trying to make light conversation in _his_ free time.

What Draco really couldn't figure out was why 'shouldn't' was in his vocabulary. This was a new world, he was turning over a new leaf, and he could do whatever he wanted. He just had to figure out what exactly he wanted.

He sighed and made his way back over to Granger's window, taking her seat with a sulking frown. Numbness, he was trying to avoid that feeling. He wanted to feel things again, he was craving it. He didn't want his old life back, he didn't resent things that had happened to him since the end of the war, but he didn't want to continue looking on with mild indifference. He wanted to care! Yet he wasn't sure how to fight off the numbness that made him indifferent.

He squeezed his eyes shut with a groan as he suddenly thought of a temporary solution to his problem. It couldn't be healthy for his mind, but at the same time he was sure it would work. At least for a little while.

* * *

**A/N: **_Here is chapter two. I would like to thank you all for the reviews. I do realize that this might be an over used idea, but I like putting my own twist to things, I feel like I can deliver it differently. So thank you for those who have given this fic a shot and noticed that this is/will be different. _**Trigue**_**, **this is a shout out to your lovely review and I am slightly disappointed that I couldn't send you a P'M to chat with you. :) Until next time. _


	3. Enlightened

**A/N:** _Do you guys prefer Author's notes at the top or bottom of the chapter? Well here's the next installment of-_

**Love Potion**

**Chapter 3: Enlightened**

Draco took a deep breath as he tried to keep the composure that he had always exuded over the years. He cast his 'friends' a sweeping glance of the coldest glare he could muster, only things were different now. He wasn't the son of one the most influential wizards in all of England anymore. His status wasn't intimidating. _He_ wasn't intimidating, and he probably never had been. His scowl nearly turned into a pout but he refrained. This part was dangerous. He was teetering on a fine line between insanity and obsession but at the moment he didn't care. He wasn't worried that he would get caught, even though it felt like he should have freaked out over this immediately after it happened.

Goyle was the least respondent. He had been since after the war. Draco wasn't helping either, his longtime best friend was a stranger to him and he had no clue how to reach out and help him grieve the loss of their dead friend. Most days they couldn't look at each other, and words between the two were awkward and forced. They had never had much in common, besides boasting their bloodlines and Goyle following his every command. In fact Draco had heard a rumor from the returning 6th year Slytherins that he might be dropping out and accepting a job offer in Diagon Alley. At first he had been rather upset that Goyle hadn't told him, but then he realized that he hadn't told Goyle what his plans for the future were either. He hadn't told Goyle anything. Draco couldn't find it in himself to glare at him, and skipped right over him to grill his other two roommates.

Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were practically strangers to him in the same sense that Goyle was now. He had spent the better part of his Hogwarts days bossing them and intimidating them in to doing what he wanted. There had been moments when they all laughed, when they got along and swapped stories in the middle of the night, but they had never been close. Not in the same way that he had been close to Crabbe and Goyle. He knew that Potter and his friends thought that they had been his dumb giant body guards and he'll admit that at times he treated them like that (a fact that made Crabbe's death even more painful considering how he died…), but he never thought of them that way. It was strange having to start over in this world, to start over with people that he had known and spent a lot of time with in the past seven years. It was strange to think that despite everything he had been through, everything his friends had been through, they didn't feel very close. The stupid Gryffindor Threesome sure as hell didn't seem despondent with each other; in fact they looked closer now more than ever. The newspapers swarmed them and glorified the tight nit friends making them more celebrities than war heroes. He felt a pang of jealousy of the friendship that he had always craved but never received as he mustered up his courage to clear his throat.

"So which one of you was it?" he asked casually without dropping his glare.

His gaze flickered between the two as if that would reveal something to him, only it didn't help. Theo was sprawled out on his bed flipping through a racy muggle magazine, while Blaise attempted to zip paper airplanes around the room in a small race. Goyle stared out the window with a blank expression. Draco cleared his throat after a moment when it became clear that no one felt like answering him and repeated his question.

"Well whoever did it obviously thought it would be funny to watch you trip over your feet to get at Granger," Nott snickered.

"And get your ass kicked by Weasley," Zabini offered with a smirk.

"It had to have been one of you two," Draco growled interrupting the pair's infamous pattern of rolling off each other's comments.

"You know that is exactly the type of narrow mindedness that gives this house such a bad rep," Zabini sighed with exaggerated sadness.

"It isn't like anyone is scared of you anymore," Theo added, "it isn't like you can run off to _Daddy_."

Draco felt his teeth grind as his hand instinctively shot to his wand in his robes. The room's atmosphere instantly thickened. That was the sort of comment that made him want to hex his long time roommate and damn the consequences. Nott was the worst when it came to censoring himself for the sake of others, and he had never cared what his friends thought of that. Draco had a thousand scathing retorts geared up and ready to go, but he knew if he said them things would forever be ruined between them. There were some things friendships couldn't recover from. Losing a war, his family, and his arrogant upbringing had taught him that these were the people he looked to for answers. They were all stumbling around trying to figure things out together. If he said what he wanted to in response, there would be no going back. He felt his teeth gnash again as he closed his eyes and bit back a curse. He didn't need to bother hiding his anger, but he could try and not lash out because of it. It was a pivotal moment for the Slytherin group, not that any of them knew it at the time. In that moment where the words were left unsaid there was a shift, a realization between all of them. For each it was different, but it was significant beyond explanation. As Draco stewed in silence his glare deepened at the pair, Nott in particular. Theo finally caved, his eyes lowered as he sighed.

"That was uncalled for… _sorry_," he mumbled before turning back to his magazine and violently turning the page with exaggerated force.

"I guess we all should lighten up some…" Draco offered timidly, smoothing the situation over without acknowledging the apology directly.

They were all dazed; he realized that. He couldn't let them think that he would let them walk all over him though. He couldn't drop that comment that brought up his past or the prank that was thrown in his face. It was a reminder of who he had been, and what he no longer wanted to be. He realized that they needed ways to start exploring who they actually were, that because of their house they would be discriminated on. They needed each other to heal; it didn't matter if it was hard or not. The prank was supposed to be harmless but it woke something up in him. They all had to find ways to cope and to find a place in this world.

The corners of his lips turned up slightly as he added, "I was wondering who exactly I was starting this prank war with and who will be on the receiving end of my payback. I guess it'll just have to be a surprise."

The room answered in smirks and soft chuckles before they drifted off in to a comfortable silence. He would do well on his promise, he would pay them back for this small embarrassment and he would do it with a flair that they hadn't possessed. He would _outdo_ them and their childish prank. He smirked as he started to think of all the possibilities and ideas he had in his arsenal.

()()()()()()()()()

Draco timidly glanced around the room. After offering a weak excuse to not walk with his friends to lunch he had hung back slightly then he had doubled back to their room and tightly locked the door behind him. He only had a few moments, possibly less; any longer would be suspicious. But he wouldn't feel relaxed until his plan was set into motion on some level.

"Accio love potion," he hissed through gritted teeth.

He couldn't believe he hadn't just tried this approach first. With a gentle rattle, Theo's closet burst open and a sock flew in to his palm. A small pink vial of Weasley's Cupid Crystals fell out when he turned the sock upside down into his hand.

"Well at least that family is good for something," he muttered under his breath as he magiked the sock back in place and locked the wardrobe up to what it had been before.

He left the room just in time as Blaise walked through the portrait and gave him an obviously skeptical look.

"Forgot my book," he mumbled as he brushed past his friend.

They filed into the routine and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch before making their way to class. The pair even managed a few jokes that weren't at any Muggle-Borns' expense. He was silently thankful when class came around and he could zone out their boring professor. History had never been his favorite subject.

He spent the entire class nervously patting his pocket, feeling dirty for some reason, and glancing at the clock.

()()()()()()()()()

Since the end of the war, those that had been involved in the Battle for Hogwarts, regardless of the side they had been, had been offered and recommended counselors for evaluations. Draco had sharply refused his, instead insisting on giving the Ministry vital information in tracking down Death Eaters that had escaped the battle; people like his uncle Rufus LeStrange. That was one way to avoid the probing of his mind and he would rather do that any day. He detested the idea of shrinks, although for other people they were fine, but for himself they left a dirty taste in his mouth.

Now, though, the idea of letting someone in his head and helping him heal was rather appealing. He knew what he was about to do wasn't healthy. In fact it could be downright dangerous. If he became addicted to this feeling, to the effects potions could give him, he could very well never recover. Or if he wanted to get some other fix… his father had always warned him about the dangerous of potions… yet that was half the reason why the subject attracted him so. The danger sent a happy thrill down his spine at all the possibilities and horrors it could bestow on people (and yes he recognized those thoughts as a bit strange).

What kept him from turning to a harsher escape was the constant and daily reminder he gave himself. It had been a whole year and a half since Dumbledore's death, only a few months since the war had ended. He couldn't waste this potential that the great man had seen in him. He couldn't bring himself to disappoint his memory. But on the other hand, it was a harmless love potion, an escape for a few hours. He had figured out the measurements that would leave him under the effects of the potion for just a few hours. Really, love was less harmful than other things he could get his hands on or even brew himself. It was sure better than the Fire Whiskey that Blaise had turned to.

He swallowed nervously.

He hadn't planned on giving in to this desire for escape so soon. It was for a 'just in case' scenario, and to also remove it from the hands of those who would use it against him again. The nightmare that had woken him left him dazed and craving escape. The emptiness seemed to suck life out of him, creating a desperate hole in his chest that had him gasping for breath and salvation. He silenced his struggle with his hand, as he tried to focus on his friends' even breaths and soft snores that filled the room around him.

They were all fast asleep. He wondered briefly if they had had to do anything they regretted during the war. He had been isolated after Dumbledore's death, confined to the manor and thankfully out of the main action. Voldemort hadn't wanted him to mess something else up, and he had used Draco as leverage against his parents. That wasn't to say that he hadn't seen terrible things, he had. He had seen a lot of things that had happened in _his_ house. He was in the process of selling the mansion now; he hadn't been able to bring himself to step inside since the end of the war. He shoved those thoughts down as he tentatively reached over to his nightstand and opened the drawer.

He let out a breath as his fingers closed around the small vial. He slipped quietly out of bed, his feet padding softly against the cool ground, as he made his way to the door. He slipped on a robe and a pair of slippers before making his way out.

He wasn't Head Boy, but he still was a prefect. He planned on using that to his advantage as he rounded the empty hallways. He wondered briefly if it was right that he had turned down the role at the beginning of the semester. Just a few weeks ago he had been too numb to take any notice in his personal appearance, let alone care what a bunch of _kids_ did. That thought struck him as he wondered if that was the reason that Granger had turned down being Head Girl as well. Although he guessed it had to do with something noble, like offering it to the proper student who didn't have to repeat their year. Looney Luna had taken her place, and the Head Boy was some Hufflepuff whose name he never bothered learning. His reasons hadn't been noble at all, in fact he felt kind of selfish and was glad that it had been an off the record type of deal with McGonagall.

The Head Mistress was constantly checking up on him and everyone else from his year that had returned. She seemed to harbor a soft spot for Draco in particular now, as she was always trying to get him more involved with class or gave him a few extra prefect duties to complete. That had annoyed him yesterday, but today he could see her reasoning. Her attempts to keep him active had been a roundabout way of showing him ways to things he could live for; to remind him what Dumbledore had sacrificed for him. He suddenly felt a swell of affection for the older woman. She was trying to see what Dumbledore saw. That wasn't to say that she did see it, but she was making an effort too. He could appreciate that.

After a few more moments of quiet self-reflection and wandering Draco found himself outside of his destination. He snuck a glance around the hall before quietly addressing the portrait.

"Could you make sure I don't leave here for a few hours?"

The little girl in the white dress holding a bonnet of flowers gave him a quizzical look. She had been the new portrait for this room since the last one had been blasted to pieces in the war.

"Password?" she questioned.

"Squeaker," he groaned giving her the password with thick annoyance evident in his tone before adding, "Don't you recognize me yet?"

"I am new you know," she replied haughtily, "and besides you need a password to get in to the room."

"I just gave it to you," he pointed out.

"I know," she grumbled swinging open slightly, "and just because you are annoying me I'll make sure you stay locked in for a few hours."

He grinned as he quickly made his way inside the privacy of the prefects' bathroom.

To be on the safe side he added magic to the door as it locked behind him. He heard the portrait squeal in displeasure from outside and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like 'pervert'.

He felt a nervous sweat gather in his palms as he turned on the bath to his favorite peppermint scent, and then quickly stripped and fell into its warm embrace. He floated in the water for a moment before he got out and timidly folded his clothes and gathered the potion from his pocket. He sat on the edge of the vast bathtub, fidgeting and twirling the bottle in his hands as he did so. He eyed the pink liquid as it sloshed around in its confines with a mixture of distaste and wonder. He unscrewed the cap and noticed the faint scent of peppermint and parchment as it wafted over his curious senses. _There's no turning back now_, he told himself. With ease he measured out the correct portion of the liquid and downed the contents in a quick gulp.

He had half a second to ponder if he should have looked into procuring an antidote before reminding himself that if he had one he probably wouldn't take it anyways. He hadn't wanted it when Granger had given it to him, and he wouldn't want it now without someone there to prompt him. The full effect hit him instantaneously after he dismissed those thoughts and he slipped into the warm water with a goofy grin plastered on his face. He wondered why he had even doubted that this wouldn't be a good idea.

Granger wouldn't mind it, at least Granger couldn't mind if she didn't know. It wasn't like she was here to stop him.

"Maybe I could go fetch her," he mused to himself.

The past few days she had looked rather tense. From common gossip and tidbits of information from Pansy he had learned that girls loved bubble baths and long massages. Maybe he could entice her to join him. He sloshed around in the bath water as he tried to scramble out.

"Mmmm," coughed a squeaky feminine voice.

He froze, his hands locked on the edge of (what really should be considered a miniature pool) the bath as he cautiously sent a glance over his shoulder.

Myrtle was perched on the shallow steps near the glass window of the mermaid. She wore a small frown with her arms crossed over her chest. She idly blew a few bubbles out of her way as her frown turned to a leer as he looked at her.

"It's been a long time," she pouted.

"It has…" he responded.

Granger, he should really ask her about Granger. She was muggle born too, she could find Granger, and maybe she could convince Granger to come here. He needed to play his cards right. He needed to stay in control of this. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest. He doubted he would be able to keep his cool, but he never had to in front of Myrtle. He had never used Myrtle for anything other than a person to talk to. He trusted her. Giving her a soft smile, he practically lurched from his seat to sit beside the ghost. A slight change in the grayness in her cheeks showed that she was blushing as she glanced down nervously at the water.

"Myrtle," he gasped in realization, "you're Muggle-born right?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" she snapped as her cheeks darkened a shade. "It has nothing to do with visiting for sure," she added grimly.

"I really am sorry about that. I have been meaning to visit you," he reassured her.

"That's what they all say," Myrtle pouted, "or some other lame excuse. Potter's always super awkward whenever I catch him though."

"You talk to Potter?" he asked hopefully. "Does that mean you talk to Granger too?"

"I do talk to Potter. He always offers lame excuses as to why he hasn't come to visit me. Granger? Oh you mean Hermione? That bushy haired know it all?"

He felt his grin deepen, "That's the one."

"I can't say I am fond of her, she doesn't like when I pop up in the boy's bathrooms. She gave me a large scolding last time she heard I was in here tormenting Potter," Myrtle paused as a wicked grin spread across her face. "It was worth it though."

"Worth it?"

"Boys aren't the only ones that play peeping tom," she suggested giving the fading bubbles around him a stern glance.

He would have been embarrassed or uncomfortable at least under normal circumstances, but all he could think of now was if Granger would appraise his nakedness the same way. He sighed dramatically as he leaned back against the wall, using his arm to pull over a few more bubbles to shield him from Myrtle's view.

"Oh you won't tell Granger I'm here will you?" she asked in mock surprise after a moment of thick silence.

Her eyebrows arched impossibly high as she gave him her best pout. She blinked slowly a few times as well. Had his mind been on par and sharp like usual he would have noticed the awful attempt at flirting that the young ghost was trying with him. However, he missed it entirely and instead gave her a dreamy smile as she fell right into a pattern he hoped she would take.

"Actually I was hoping you could go get Granger and bring her here."

* * *

**A/N: **_Shout out to the lovely, talented and all around best friend a girl could ask for, _**Anonymous Being**_! She's back in action in the writing scene and I couldn't be happier. In case you guys are wondering why I'm all bubbly about this, she's my first mate and beta! SO WOOT! It's nice to have another pair of eyes go over things before posting a chapter. With her pushing me for chapters you guys will probably get several quickly updated chapters for a bit while my moral and motivation is high haha. I have adored the reviews, and I have responded to several of you. Just know that I don't normally do that but while the story is still young I figured I would personally thank you all. I don't think I'll be doing that every time (I'm too lazy). Wish some of you had accounts so I could do the same! But *shrugs* I still think you guys are awesome. Until next time~_


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